


Yosuga Rising

by Laylah



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne
Genre: Dominance, Inhuman POV, M/M, What-If, Yosuga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-16
Updated: 2008-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-09 00:04:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I won the trial against Thor," Naoki says. "Gozu-Tennoh gave me power. I claim the human boy to make up for the insult of being thrown in your prison in the first place."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yosuga Rising

There are still rules in the Vortex World. Even -- no, especially -- with the Mantra. Naoki meets Isamu's eyes through the bars, and remembers what it felt like to want and be unable to do anything about it. The feeling belongs to his other life. It's disorienting. Isamu still looks as good as ever, even with the circles under his eyes from the Mantra draining him like they have been.

Kamudo writhes, unsettling as always when the magatama stir, and what it brings with it is less a surge of power than a demand: take, it means. It's a good magatama for this place. Naoki thinks of prizes, victory, forfeits.

"Wait here," he tells Isamu.

"Yeah," Isamu says. He sounds bitter. Has Naoki ever heard him like that before? "Not like I have anywhere to go."

Naoki doesn't look back, just walks up the row and pushes open the cellblock door. "Open his cell," he says to the nue on duty.

The demon growls, the white ruff around its face bristling. "You no give orders," it says.

"I won the trial against Thor," Naoki says. He meets the demon's eyes steadily. Most of them are like dogs. They have to look down or attack before too long, and he'll take either outcome right now. "Gozu-Tennoh gave me power. I claim the human boy to make up for the insult of being thrown in your prison in the first place."

The nue makes a sound in its throat like a whimper trying to be a growl, and looks down. Naoki doesn't lower his guard. "Get others," the nue insists. "They decide."

"Fine," Naoki says.

It's easier said than done. The rank and file of the Mantra aren't in any hurry to forgive him for showing them up. But after Naoki has frozen and shattered a couple of really uppity pyro jacks, and punched the living shit out of an oni that challenged him, he manages to get the next one to agree to come down to the jail wing with him. Kamudo hums in his belly. It feels good to _win_.

"Well, you got balls, that's for sure," the oni says, when Naoki repeats his demand for one of the prisoners. "Which one you want? Not the spy, I hope." His leer says that's just what he _does_ hope, as if he'd do any better against Naoki than the last three of his kind to try something.

"Human!" the nue complains, banging its paws against the jailer's podium. "Wants human!"

The oni laughs. "Balls of steel," it says. "No deal. The kid's a goddamn magatsuhi factory."

"You can get magatsuhi from anyone," Naoki says. "That's what you keep the manikins around for, isn't it?" He feels bad for a second or two, but only a little. As long as there are Mantra, they'll be pushing someone around, and better the manikins than Isamu. "Besides, you said he was too weak. Hard not to kill. You'll just waste him. Give him to me."

"If he's that weak, what do you want him for?" the oni says.

Naoki shrugs. "It's personal." He wonders if there _are_ female oni, and whether that would make this one more or less understanding of what he wants.

"This I gotta see," the oni says. "Go on," it tells the nue. "Unlock the kid's cell."

The nue pushes something on the podium, and Naoki can hear a clang from inside the cell block. He and the oni start through the door, leaving the nue jailer to growl-purr to itself at its post.

When they get to the cell, Isamu is huddled in the back corner of it, his eyes wide and his teeth bared in panic. Like an animal. Naoki remembers watching Thor pull the magatsuhi straight out of Isamu's body, the way Isamu went limp on the floor afterward. How many times have other demons come in here to do that to him again? How many turns of Kagatsuchi has it been?

The oni reaches for the cell door, then stops. "After you," it says.

Naoki rolls his eyes. Everything is a test here. He takes hold of the door and Kamudo flares in his belly, giving him strength to haul the door up. Isamu flinches.

"You're with them now?" he says when Naoki steps into his cell.

"They know how strong I am," Naoki says. It's almost like an answer. He reaches down and takes Isamu by the arm, pulls him to his feet. He smells -- well, like exhaustion and fear-sweat and old pain. But he smells _human_. It's enticing. For a minute Naoki can almost taste how much magatsuhi is still inside him -- how a fresh flow of it has just started because Naoki got this close.

"What do you want?" Isamu says. He's trembling. Naoki doesn't want him to stop. He leans a little closer, presses Isamu against the back wall of the cell and pins him there with his own weight. "Naoki? What the hell is this?"

There's still an oni out there somewhere. Naoki doesn't care. He rubs his cheek against Isamu's, breathes in the scent of his hair. He used to want to kiss Isamu so bad. He wonders if the Fiend half of him would ruin that now. He does it anyway.

The softness of Isamu's mouth is good. The way he shudders is good, too. Mine, says the beat of Naoki's blood. Mine, mine. He bites Isamu's lip, just a little -- friendly, like the way his inugami used to bite his hand happily when he skritched behind its ears. But Isamu whimpers, and that makes Naoki want to bite like he means it, bite and shove and drag Isamu to the floor and --

"Don't do that," Naoki warns Isamu, softly, against his mouth. How well can an oni hear? "Demons sense weakness."

"Yeah, I was getting that idea," Isamu says. His voice shakes, too. Naoki takes him by the arms and turns them both around, so that Naoki's back is to the wall and he can see the oni in the doorway of the cell, leaning on its club. Watching.

"Down," Naoki says. They've done enough to make his point already, but Isamu feels so good, and this is a kind of victory, too.

"You're kidding," Isamu says, but his knees bend when Naoki keeps pushing. "I don't -- Naoki -- you want me to --"

"Don't you want to get out of here?" Naoki asks. "Wouldn't you rather come with me than stay here?"

Isamu looks down -- humans and demons aren't that different after all -- and tugs at the snap on Naoki's shorts. "With -- with him _watching_?"

Naoki's fingers clench in the shoulder of Isamu's jacket. "That part's important." It is, isn't it? Kamudo thinks so. He wonders if this would go differently with Ankh inside him instead. He wonders what the one Thor just gave him will want. Isamu's fingers are chilled, freeing his cock.

Oh, but Isamu's tongue is warm, and so wet and soft. Naoki growls contentedly, pushing his fingers into Isamu's hair. He knocks Isamu's hat askew, pushes it off so it won't be in his way when he threads his fingers through Isamu's hair to hold on. Like that. Good. Like that. His weight balances between his heels on the floor and his shoulders against the wall, and he rocks his hips so he can have more than just Isamu's tongue.

Isamu makes another one of those demon-baiting noises when Naoki's cock pushes past his lips. His hands splay against Naoki's waist, like he's almost trying to stop it from happening. He's not strong enough for that, though. If he had that kind of strength he wouldn't have wound up in the Mantra's jail in the first place.

And his mouth feels so good. Naoki can remember trying to imagine it, but it was never like this. It was never so direct. The way he pictured it, they both wanted it, but it wasn't this easy. But that was before the Conception. Of course he can't have that now.

He pushes harder, deeper, and Isamu chokes for a second, hands pressing back helplessly at Naoki's hips. Then his teeth scrape along Naoki's shaft.

Naoki growls, but he's pleased. It's good that Isamu hasn't completely lost the will to fight back. It'll make him better company. The oni is still staring. It smiles when Isamu makes choking noises, shifts its grip on its club. Naoki bares his teeth at it. Claiming Isamu is his right, and now he has the power to take what's his.

The way pleasure curls around his spine is like the surge of magatama when they're about to teach him new skills. The wet softness of Isamu's mouth isn't like anything else at all. Naoki keeps meeting the oni's eyes and lets the pleasure build and crest without looking down, even when his fiend-marks heat up with the surge of his own magatsuhi, even when he can hear Isamu coughing.

"Good," he says, after, when Isamu slumps in front of him, taking deep shuddery breaths. "Here." He reaches down to help Isamu up -- he has to wait, first, while Isamu reaches for his hat -- carefully, and wasn't he favoring his left side before? They should go see if the Lady of the Fount can do anything for a human. "Let's go." He zips up his shorts and does the snap, and holds on to Isamu's belt loop like the girls at school used to when he starts toward the door.

The oni shifts its weight, blocking as much of the doorway as it can. "What's the hurry?" it says. "That looked like a good time."

Isamu cringes. He needs to stop that.

Naoki lets go of him. "Get your own," he tells the oni. "This one is mine."

"We found him first," the oni says.

That's a lie. But that's not the most important thing, not here. "I'm stronger than you," Naoki says. "And I'm not asking your permission." The oni growls, and raises its club.

Naoki is faster than almost all the demons of the Mantra by now. The oni has barely taken its battle stance when he lunges, and his fist connects with a solid crack that echoes in the cell behind him. The oni swipes at him with its club, and Naoki flinches at the dull thud of the impact, but it hurts less than he expected it to. Less than it used to. His turn, and he steps into it, knows his opponent well enough to aim by now. He drives the heel of his hand into the soft crease below the oni's breastbone, and it staggers, dropping to one knee.

Not its lucky day. Naoki presses the advantage while he has it, punching the demon right in its ugly face. Something crunches, and it's not his hand. The oni drops, blood spraying from its nose. Too easy.

Naoki looks back. "Come on," he says, holding out his hand. Isamu stares at him like he's going to bite. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Isamu asks. It takes a minute, but eventually he puts his hand in Naoki's, and lets Naoki pull him the rest of the way out of the cell.

"Does it matter?" Naoki says. It doesn't. Not right now. Isamu's fingers are still cold. They'll fix that. "It'll be better than this."


End file.
